These days, seinen, geared towards young adult men and older, are thought of as the mature, intelligent evolution from shounen. In turn, shounen are seen by some as mindless and flashy acts of violence and softcore eroticism meant to feed young boys’ growth in testosterone. Both vast opinions have flaws, just like any opinion born from the extremely flawed mind of a human, but the stereotypes of each genre are true in some way: shounen are indeed geared toward young boys and seinen are geared towards men who want a story with more mature themes. Having this in mind, the manhua Feng Shen Ji completely
fits said expectations.

With mild gore, deaths, eye-catching artwork, and strong (almost tiring) supernatural themes such as reincarnation, the story begins with a bang large enough to keep one’s attention for one reason or another. From the first chapter, Feng Shen Ji is put across in a quick and entertaining way, leaving what seems to be room for growth but is really just lazy storytelling. There’s little explanation—and what’s elaborated on is done so in a simple fashion—because no one cares about that, right? Chapter by chapter, Feng Shen Ji becomes less like a coherent manhua and more like an uninspired, stereotypical autobiography completely lacking in depth.

The plot, consisting of a mess of vehement creatures, divine powers, and gods, starts something like this: While chaos rages, a tragedy happens to the young prince Wu Geng, and his life continues because he somehow cheats death (this is a theme that isn’t rare throughout the manhua). He lives life and fights with one purpose: freedom and prosperity through his hardships.

The main problem is that you don’t know why. Any reader deserves a reason as to why someone does what they do—something more complex, something attributed to deeper emotions. While freedom and prosperity are all fine and dandy, it’s been done before; with nothing grittier, the characters turn into a puddle of soup seasoned with a lack morals and direction. The characters’ uninteresting personalities are stemmed from their most evident trait: a simple, juvenile mindset. The story that they’ve been placed in is no better, with the same amount of thought put into it as the amount of times the main character sounds intelligent.

Every direction the plot goes seems like its come straight out of a book called “Clichés and How to Sugarcoat Them.” (Pick it up if you’ve never heard of it.) Feng Shen Ji chose to sugarcoat these clichés with two methods: Artwork of such quality that it was almost distracting and not putting serious emphasis on anything. Most occurrences in the manhua go by dully, walking across a fun little road named Monotony. There was no true conflict or plot twists because of how rooted it was to unoriginality and even the most important events just happen, devoid of gripping themes. The question of what is more at fault—the lack of compelling characters or the plot stripped bare of complex themes—is almost unable to be answered.

In fact, it is the art that breathes more life into the characters than anything else. Its best asset is that it’s not merely black-and-white lines, but is fully colored and fitting of the manhua’s atmosphere. Muscle-bound men adorn the pages, accompanied by graceful, silky-haired women. Gods look the part of the villain particularly well. Sceneries are skillfully drawn. Every few pages, Feng Shen Ji trades its normal style for a painted counterpart meant to give emphasis to important parts of the story. Most importantly, the combat is easy to take in and understand.

But despite how the art pops with color, there is a deep sense of black-and-white within the manhua. You can tell those who are “evil” from those who are looking to serve a plate of justice to the world within seconds. Characters have little that keeps them going on, keeps them fighting, or causes them to act the way they are—they’re just that way. The enemy gods are generally taken care of quickly once the clash has been established and the plot follows a plain cycle of working/training for freedom out of a situation, conflict, and a large change in scenery.

Semblances of growth in characters are just flukes. Wu Geng, the main character, sorely lacks morals and likability from start to finish. He’s impulsive and juvenile, but if I could say one thing, I would say that he acts his age. While he thinks he has the audacity to punish others, the largest problem with his character is that his personality is not only put across in an uninteresting way, making him immediately unlikable, but he also rarely gets enough punishment for his own ignorance. The only thing that makes him different from a usual idiotic lead is that there’s little to no attempt to make him interesting besides his immature monologues. The only growth that he, or any of the other characters, have are changes in appearance and status from year to year.

Besides him, the rest of the characters blur together and are easily forgotten, seen as interchangeable by the writer. What makes them unique is the fact that, unlike many characters these days, there are no cheap, flashy spices added (the same spices that, ironically, makes them unbearable). Their personalities come from the common archetypes stripped to the bare minimum. Perhaps, in the writer’s mind, this approach made the manhua more realistic.

Little to no emphasis is put on psychological growth, and instead the focus is on the mindless entertainment quality (through gore, deaths, and a hint of sexuality) and how pretty the package it’s wrapped in looks. Still, it is a manhua with mature themes, thus it caters to an age group that can handle such themes. For those reasons, yes, Feng Shen Ji is a seinen.

Babysitting. Some of us might have done it, whether it’s one of those odd jobs or it’s being stuck with a younger sibling. Especially when you only want to focus on yourself, something prevalent in just about any age group (but especially during adolescence), having someone else to tend to can be one of the most irksome things to deal with. So let me ask you this—what if you were in high school, enjoying a selfish lifestyle that you’re arguably allowed to have (to an extent), only to have a child dumped on you? This is how Aishiteruze Baby starts, introducing us to the prospect
of Kippei having to care for his five year old cousin, Yuzuyu. The manga is already chock full of issues that must be handled not only delicately but tactfully to create a successful story. Aishiteruze Baby takes this weight upon its shoulders.

One thing that is evident about Aishiteruze Baby is that it’s not a typical shoujo, yet despite all of the realistic issues the manga handles, it sometimes treats itself like one. Although it does put a fairly down-to-earth spin on things, the attempt to mix comedy and drama comes across awkward at best, forming a sort of identity crisis. In fact, it almost gives off a nonchalant tone when things are anything but. The true charm of AiBaby lies in the undeniably sweet relationship between the main characters.

The fashion in which this story is told could be described as a double-edged sword. Every volume focuses on another person’s problems and how they overcome them in the end while also juggling the main story. This ensures that the drama never overstays its leave while developing characters on the way, but there’s a juvenile tone to the storytelling. I found the drama to be half-baked at best, even overbearing for my tastes. Yes, the drama is often underdeveloped and resolved far too quickly to be seen as serious and realistic. Although it’s heartwarming on one side, on the other I just don’t care enough about this new character’s issues to enjoy the outcome—to really feel for them. In fact, it even feels melodramatic for that very reason. On the other end of the spectrum, the most developed arcs include the main characters and they are, by far, the most enjoyable. These arcs are like a speck of yellow in a gray room.

Although the plot could be considered sloppy, Aishiteruze Baby fares better when it comes to charm. There is an inexplicably sweet, warm atmosphere that stays consistent throughout the story, providing a much needed breath of fresh air. This feeling is only reinforced by the art style; while it’s not much different from most shoujo styles, it fits the overall tone of the manga well. The paneling is decent at best but the strongest point of the art is the character designs, which reinforce the overall personality of the character nicely and stand out just enough. Yuzuyu’s appearance is enough to invoke a warm feeling. She’s particularly adorable and her varying hairstyles and outfits only add more humanity to this little girl. The growth of Kippei’s personality shows through the art and Kokoro is drawn in an elegant yet practical way. The art flows nicely and doesn’t hinder the story in any way.

One thing to mention is that there was an ambitious attempt to cater to each character. While scattered, the story features everyone’s side of things, making it a bit easier to sympathize or at least understand some characters. It showed that everyone does, in fact, have things they’re trying to overcome. This gives an eye-opener that many manga don’t consider—though caring is another issue. The attempt to do this was overdone, with some characters getting more screen time than they deserved. Other characters get a rushed explanation of their past when it could serve to have them viewed positively and maturely for a change.

With that said, the strongest point is the maturation of the Kippei and the interaction between the mains. The characters come across bland but their actions were anything but. Dialogue and development aside, the chemistry between the characters could stir hearts on its own. The main three characters Kippei, Kokoro, and Yuzuyu have their place and use it well; romantic relationships are surprisingly refreshing, straightforward, and realistic. They don’t suffer from the cliché complications that many manga overuse, leaving me fairly content. Yuzuyu and Kippei’s interactions are sweeter than sugar and the topic of a foster parent is well handled. Although they’re merely caricatures on one end of the spectrum, their communications were enough to weave a secure, heartwarming atmosphere.

Though overall superficial and varying in quality, one thing that can be said about Aishiteruze Baby is that it brings on some simple warm feelings that are uplifting to experience. Perhaps it’s the adorable and delicate portrayal of important relationships or perhaps it’s just the down-to-earth, relaxing vibe. No matter what it is, most of my enjoyment came from these moments and the most annoying times were when this atmosphere was interrupted by subpar melodrama. This manga is not about drama but instead it’s about the things in between; when this philosophy is taken away, it feels unsatisfying.

So what is Aishiteruze Baby? It’s a simple feel good manga that is a bit too ambitious. Its strength remains in the cute hugs, tender slice-of-life happenings, and endearing relationships. If you look beyond the manga’s flaws, a sweet, heart-warming story remains—no more, no less.

Before watching Tamako Market, I had to prepare myself. I mean cold showers, a critical state of mind stemmed by delirium, and eating a cup of ramen filled with enough hot sauce to burn my tonsils off. Distraction from the cuteness is key—because the cuteness is paramount. It springs up in all corners, in every moe smile, in every darned bit of music, in every bright color. Beneath a tactful disguise of a thousand hues of pink, a conniving truth festers. If you let your guard down you will never see it.

I’m here to tell you the truth. And the truth is that Tamako Market
is any moe-lover’s dream—on the outside, at least. In case I haven’t mentioned this already, everything is cute. In fact, the cuteness is played up to such a level that all you see, all you notice, is cute. The animation is bright and bubbly and perfectly moe; it fits an anime of this caliber and deserves praise for setting the stage. The voice acting and music will not disappoint. On the outside, Tamako Market is glorious and if one is content with this then good enough for them. But for those of us who begin to question the cuteness, for those of us who find that the cuteness isn’t enough to stop critical analysis, a deeper look is in order. For the sake of this review, I will break through Tamako Market’s façade. There are few layers beneath. Actually, it’s painfully simple, even more so than some other slice of life anime out there.

Despite the bubbly aura that the animation and music emanates, Tamako Market feels uninspired and, weirdly enough, even bland. This isn’t because it’s a slice of life anime. In fact, anime of this genre often have an inexplicably entertaining quality despite the commonplace happenings. Where other similar anime stand strong, fortified by character chemistry and those signature quirky events, Tamako Market can’t seem to establish itself. Everything is there to create another wonderful edition to the world of moe—right? Actually, no. The deeper parts of moe and slice of life, the parts that leave a good anime fan satisfied, are not merely looks but what’s on the inside. It’s just like the question of best girl. She may have to be cute, but there are a lot of cute girls and when it comes down to it, her heart matters more.

For anime, the heart is something known as plot and characterization.

Tamako Market starts off pretty well, introducing us to the cool and friendly place where Tamako lives and Dera, a pompous bird that she just happens to encounter. The story basically revolves around Tamako’s daily life with this bird, her friends, and mochi. The one thing that Tamako Market tells us consistently is that mochi is great, mochi is good, and mochi is life. Otherwise, everything is loosely about friendship, family, and some sort of plot revolving around Dera that comes in when it wants to, only to be remembered when convenient and then sloppily handled at the end. For some, the amount of moe cuteness is enough; getting absorbed in it is fine for them. But the reason why all you see is cuteness and the reason why there’s so much of it is because there isn’t anything else. The best thing that Tamako Market could do was play that up, and it definitely did that. However, those of us looking for something deeper will only be content in watching this anime (though that does not mean they won’t enjoy the ride) instead of absorbing all that it has to offer. Tamako and her friends are the only thing that would make this anime remotely interesting—and that fact doesn’t fare well for it.

The dialogue is bland, the jokes are bland (and barely noticed), the crushes are bland (and very badly handled), and the characters (especially the ones with the most screen time) are bland. The latter is the reason why the former is bland. The characters that had promise on episode one bore you by episode twelve because they’re exactly the same. The archetypes that you were introduced to don’t have any deeper facts, quirky characteristics, or new emotions to show you that twelve episodes have passed. Where many slice of life anime keep you interested with facts or entertaining life stories or at least a deeper kind of characterization, Tamako Market doesn’t stretch its legs. All of them are insipidly themselves—Tamako is forever cute and naïve, Kanna is forever unusual, Midori is forever bubbly-ish. In fact, perhaps unsurprisingly, but definitely unfortunately, the most interesting and promising characters are the ones with the least amount of screen time.

The reason why Tamako Market fails to inspire praise is because it doesn’t handle itself well. Though another (not implausible) reason is that perhaps it thinks it doesn’t need to, so long as there’s cuteness. Many will agree with that and many anime veterans will not.

Look in each corner, my friends. In one, we have cuteness, the appealing shell. In the other, we have a gray, murky goop, the unappetizing innards. The question of which one will win can only be answered by you, the viewer.

Dakedo Happy Paradise is the shoujo manga that anybody who’s anybody needs to read. No exceptions, just read it. You want me to explain why? I shouldn’t have to. The characters are why you should read it. There’s Ganbatte-chan, Sexual Harrassment-kun, I-look-like-a-girl-pyon, and our favorite black haired sweetie named… Uh…

The characters are not only carefully molded but also deeply developed, each with their own realistic issues. Everyone needs to experience such intricate characters—no, people—with their own eyes. In Dakedo Happy Paradise, you’ll see unrequited love that will tug at your heartstrings and force you to scream “Ganbatte!” for the (side) character. In Dakedo Happy Paradise,
you’ll see a shota being constantly mistaken for a girl and, at one point, even being dressed up like one! (Boku no Pico fans, you’ll shed a tear at this.) In Dakedo Happy Paradise, you’ll see a man who can’t contain his… love… for Ganbatte-chan gushing over her, showing himself to her, and pushing her down, doing his utmost to share his (hormone-fueled) feelings with her when she’s too pure to understand! In Dakedo Happy Paradise, you’ll see the issues of an elder brother who just happens to be normal and uninteresting! Last but not least, there’s one we’ll all be able to relate to - Ganbatte-chan and her issues with her (male) parent. Truly heartbreaking.

She’s an innocent, pure child who gets wrapped up in the woes of life, death, abandonment, puberty, three teenage boys, and her brain. Instead of sucking it up and getting beat by her problems years later, Ganbatte-chan, having nowhere else to turn, decides to take up a job as a housekeeper. Fate takes the wheel and that house just so happens to be filled with three gorgeous male brothers who are all around her age. And there are no parents, either, because apparently they can live alone and apparently Ganbatte-chan is perfectly fine with that. When the brothers are introduced, you will notice how they look first. The average shoujo style that they are drawn in will grace your screen.

The beauty of Dakedo Happy Paradise is that it’s all fun and games. Ganbatte-chan is happy, relishing in the undivided attention of three boys. And then, by the next page, the screentones are dark and ominous. The transition is so smooth that you’ll have to blink a few times. Ganbatte-chan’s head is a dark, air-filled place, after all. She’s been abandoned by her father. Abandoned. This, mixed with the boys, the comedy, the lack of a consistent focus, and those moe moments we all love makes Dakedo Happy Paradise a really unique shoujo. The serious issue of abandonment by her good for nothing father is tactfully skimmed over sometimes and other times not. After all, we don’t like issues. They’re icky. But when the tears come all of a sudden, OH MAN, you feel it.

I don’t want to spoil it for you, but the boys play a big part in comforting Ganbatte-chan. Their complexities come out during those times. When Sexual Harrassment-kun wraps his arms securely around Ganbatte-chan, my heart flutters. When I-look-like-a-girl-pyon yells at her and then berates himself for his social ineptitude (I feel ya), I just want to put him in a skirt. And our favorite black haired sweetie, well I love it when he…

The last point that I feel needs to be brought up about Dakedo Happy Paradise is that it never loses its fun, youthful, comedic attitude. Ganbatte-chan’s crying about her dad? No problem! Just keep the jokes coming and keep the atmosphere basically the same and you’ll have her out there giving it her all and fighting (kyaaa) in no time! We’ll all forget about the issue as long as you keep that up.

One gripe that I have is that, besides a completely obvious crush and Sexual Harrassment-kun’s playfulness, we never really get to see any romance. Disappointing! Family and friendship is all fine and dandy, but I want to see some suckin’ face! Oh, by the way, spoiler alert.

Dakedo Happy Paradise isn’t one to be missed. Unless you’ve heard of all this before. I’m not sure how you could have, though, but if it just so happens that you have, well, you might not find it to be all that special. Sorry.

Have you ever been in a hospital for a certain period of time? I haven’t. I would imagine a hospital being a somewhat orderly establishment—a place where the sick patients can relax (unless we’re talking about a psychiatric ward… which we aren’t). A hospital would most likely be quiet, monotone, and serious, with a somewhat melancholic vibe for obvious reasons.

What does this have to do with Hantsuki? Well, this anime mostly takes place in what seems to be a small, local hospital. By the way, this hospital breaks every single rule that can be broken. Even factoring in that this hospital is small (meaning that
it’s bound to be a little weird) and that this is a six episode long anime (meaning that it’s bound to be a little weird), the things that happen are somewhat over the top. Occasionally, it’s funny; other times, the occurrences end up more than a little weird for reasons that I will go over later. For now, let’s just say that the latter take themselves seriously and expect us to take them seriously. The reason why this fails is because there’s a thin line between knowing it would never happen but not minding and knowing that it would never happen so deeply that you find yourself distracted by that fact while watching the anime. There’s a difference between your eyes glittering with an otaku’s delight (ahem, harem, ahem) and finding a frown on your face that resembles the expression of painful constipation. I don’t think Hanbun Sora is that bad, though, and I’m speaking from experience. Do not fret—the only thing related to my personal life that we’ll be talking about today is this anime that I spent my time on.

The last three words of the previous statement tie into what Hantsuki is all about. It’s about time—savoring it, using it wisely, cherishing what you had—and even our main character Yuuichi is bound by this philosophy. He is an active teenager who believes more in using his time wisely; even if he is ill, having contracted hepatitis A, he resists recovering quietly in the hospital and treats his boredom by sneaking out. First of all, he does so with ease by just hiding a bit and walking slowly, which isn’t something that I can comprehend. In a hospital, the patients absolutely would not be allowed to wander around the hospital without supervision, and there’s no way that the security would be so light that anyone would sneak out that easily, even with the rebel nurse in charge. Yuuichi does this repeatedly, even taking out another sick patient, Rika, and is never punished except by the nurse, who gives him a bit of a beating that can be chalked up to comic relief. Everything is viewed with such a nonchalant attitude, devoid of reality or logic, until obviously written and somewhat cheap twists come in, and we’re forced to think, “Oh, they meant for this to be important? I see.”

In six episodes, we all know that Hantsuki won’t be able to tell what something like Clannad might, but at the same time, the story is simple and shouldn’t have been complicated. It’s about a boy named Yuuichi, who meets an enigmatic girl named Rika. She has a disease but they care about one another, meaning conflict. Twists are expected and even welcomed to spice up the story, but in this amount of time, such an anime should not try so hard at something it won’t be able to achieve. They cram melodrama, love, patient abuse, two people to complicate things, grief, and yearning into six episodes; a melancholic, deep atmosphere is attempted and a cheesy, dramatic, immature one is created. Why? The anime can’t keep up with itself. One episode, something that it seems was meant to be serious happens, but by the beginning of the next scene, that atmosphere is gone or just not well handled, leaving a particularly sour taste because of poor writing.

The reason why the twists weren’t well handled of Hantsuki is somewhat attributed to the sound and animation, as, while the art or music in itself isn’t bad, the way that it’s used isn’t all that amazing. There are times when errors can be seen in the art, sure, but the largest downside is the animation in itself. A character does something like, for example, punching a wall in frustration and thanks to the angle, the jarring impact that could have been achieved comes across as dull. This isn’t helped by the voice acting, which I think occasionally came across as emotionless when the emotion was supposed to be at the highest point. Even the expressions are simple. Sometimes the music, which is good by itself, doesn’t fit the scene or an obvious sound is placed in to emphasize that something happened, making the atmosphere fall flat. This is not helped by the cast.

Every character has his or her place, every character seems to have a story, and every character moves along the plot, but that’s it. The supporting characters are much more intriguing than the main characters, though they unfortunately get little meaningful screen time or development. The mains, Yuuichi and Rika, have no “in between”—no underlying development. Rika is a brat one second and is sweet the next, as though permanently on PMS. Yuuichi ranges from pushover to “brave” in his stupidity, as though testosterone is being experienced for the first time. He was tolerable until one of his worst moments, where he had absolutely no backbone simply because of depression (and was over it by the next day). The relationship between these two is just there, as though they mutually agreed one day that they loved each other, and we’re forced to think, “Oh? Looks like they like each other. Huh.”

It is the sad truth that I found Hantsuki overwhelmingly disappointing. It didn’t fit. It didn’t piece together. I can see why people would like Hantsuki, but the best anime calms the part of my personality that scrutinizes deeply while I am watching. If you enjoy somewhat cheesy, melodramatic love stories, you might just have an opinion that greatly differs from mine. On the other hand, I think too much to enjoy something that is so obviously trying to make conflict and, like a slap in the face, does it in cheap, unimaginative ways.

If I could tell Hantsuki one thing, I’d say, “Your audience is not dumb.”

Seirei Gakusha is a somewhat confusing manga that is pretty subjective. Some people will be completely baffled while reading it while others will find their own meaning to an obscure story. I found myself leaning towards both sides - searching for meaning and answers but also embracing the fact that the story can be pretty jumpy.

Seirei Gakusha relies on obscure meaning rather than somewhat concrete analogy. Instead of wasting time on explanation, a lot is shown and never really deeply explained, leaving you to take it how you want if you're interested in the story, or get angry if you're not. By taking this route,
I feel that a lot happens in two volumes and that the story moves along at a pretty good pace. We get what's needed to make some sort of sense so that the plot can grow, instead of being rushed. While this might be a good thing in one way or another, I feel that a better balance of explanation, deepness, and character development would have made this story more special. So much is going on at once that it leaves that "wow" factor to your opinion. From an interesting beginning to a somewhat confusing end, Seirei Gakusha stands by this.

The synopsis is a good example of how the story will be moving along. There's a lot of information given in that synopsis and a lot going on in it already. It sounds confusing and all over the place, right? That's sort of how the manga is. It's not really explained, it's just there. Don't get confused by the "fairy" part, however, because it's not about fighting tiny, cute fairies, but pretty vicious ones.

Seirei Gakusha's art is nicely done. Expressions, I feel, could have been somewhat better drawn, as the emotional portrayal isn't the best in my opinion (and more emotion could have made the story better), still being pretty average. More gory or scary scenes look nice, and I really do like the way that the characters look - with our main girl having glasses and the main guy not being a typical bishounen, I think they're pretty original. The style isn't all that original, taking a lot from what I consider to be an older style, but still looks nice and gets the job done.

The characters, I found, were quite intriguing, but at the same time we don't get into them very deeply. They don't grow or develop very much - they're the way that they start out through the whole story. Their initial personality is enjoyable and refreshing, but I don't have a very strong "relationship" with the characters because I didn't see much more. You're introduced to many interesting characters over the course of the story, but instead of a good thing, I think it's both good and bad because of the length of the story and the type of story-telling.

The main girl, Yuika Aoi, was refreshing. She's got a strong head on her shoulders and she's very intelligent. She's not getting saved all the time, not by a long shot. She has courage and guts and I find her quite likable.

Rei Kuyou, on the other hand, is an interesting but underdeveloped character. Unlike most bishounen, he's not overly cool, getting wounded because of his dangerous job as a Fairy Doctor, but he's still stoic and emotionless because of his past. This is the thing that was somewhat overdone. He's like that for most of the story, with some jumps that show a bit of a different side, but at the same time that's rare and I found that he came across somewhat flat because I couldn't figure out what was going on in his head until the later chapters, thus not really giving me enough time to fall in love with him.

The rest of the characters are enjoyable, even if they are underdeveloped, but they do have emphasis put on them. They have their place in the story and they don't just disappear, which I think is very nice.

Through the ups and downs, I enjoyed seeing what Seirei Gakusha was all about and pondering over it a bit. It's a confusing and subjective story that not everyone will like, so I suggest that you go into it with an open mind, just going with the flow of the story, and see what you think.

As I read this manhua, I felt like something big was missing. Though I thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful and fluid art, I had a nagging thought in my head that said a chunk of the plot had been taken out, making the story... not really a story. Beauty Under the Moon is a little strange. It's extremely short, yet where other manhua rush through the plot, it seems to me that Beauty Under the Moon didn't rush as much as it omitted. What had the chance to be a beautiful story ended up holding little weight or deepness because of the flat execution.

There wasn't enough
explanation where there needed to be, but there was an overabundance of it in other places. The plot moved sluggishly at one point and then skipped like a scratched CD. I found that what I predicted or guessed in the back of my mind usually came true, making the little twist disappointing and lacking in depth. At some points, I found myself completely baffled as to what had just happened. I felt like the author needed an editor, or maybe just more time to ponder over her story.

The characters here aren't necessarily special. There were places where more development could've been done, but the characters were still neglected. We got little things - tiny tidbits that didn't really matter - but nothing to really make us love the characters. They were like well-drawn faces with not enough emphasis put on personality. The way that the interacted, and even the dialogue or thoughts, felt unnecessary, with a character stating the obvious more than once.

Don't get me wrong, Beauty Under the Moon doesn't really insult or invoke hatred. It's just bland and in the end, the wasted potential is obvious. The art is beautiful - if only the actual content had been the same way.

Not at all, once reality sets in. "Love" is harsh, painful, cold, and unforgiving. Young love is cute because ignorance is bliss. Young love is eventually ruined by low self-respect, immaturity (and sometimes maturity), naivety, and lastly people going into the relationship in search of physical pleasure. This is why many read shoujo, because no matter how unrealistic it can be, it's often sweet and serves as an escape.

Then there are those manga that are so unrealistic that it isn't even sweet, corny, or redeeming. Hajimete is one of those manga. It is a story about young love, told in
an idealized way. It's about a girl and a boy who are madly in love. She has trouble expressing her feelings, but after he confessed to her, they became a couple because she's also always liked him. She just can't express it the way that she wants to. The repeated thing in this manga is that he's her "first." Her first love, her first boyfriend, her first kiss... and maybe more. You get what I'm saying, yes?

The story, itself, is your basically your normal shoujo story condensed into a oneshot. It's fairly rushed, but there isn't really much to tell in the first place. Mainly because of execution, there is nothing that sets this story apart. It's very predictable, with a flat complication thrown in and an ending that I personally despised.

Is this called love? It's so immature, shallow, and unrealistic that I can't even call it that. Because there is nothing to make me like or care about the said couple, I can't see this as anymore than a revolting and sad infatuation. The consequences of the two character's actions aren't even touched. There's no thought put into what love really is. There's no thought put into - "Do I really love this person? Is this something that I really want to do?" The story is so immature that I cringed. I try to disconnect myself from logic when I read something like this, but with Hajimete, I just couldn't do that.

While the characters are well drawn, they aren't delved into at all. The main girl has a cute moment or two, but it's all watered down by her naivety and her illogical infatuation with the main guy. She thinks she knows what it means to show love, but she doesn't. Maybe it's cute in a manga, but in real life she'd only be heartbroken and taken advantage of. It's sad, really.

The main guy has little personality. He seems nice enough, but since that's only an outward thing since we don't get to know what's inside, I can't help but think that he's just a guy with a nice face who's going to take advantage of the main girl. We're told that they're in love, but are they really? And how do we know if they are when their romance is rushed and flat, with no seriousness put into it?

If you can get past those major flaws, then maybe you'll find this oneshot to be cute and enjoyable. Looking at it from a realistic sense, I found it repulsive, immature, and sad. In real life, this girl would be used up and then they'd break up, if she was lucky. In a manga, maybe it's considered sweet, in my opinion, it's not.

Adele to Darius is a nice, pleasant, and well-done story that doesn't look like much at first, but is actually quite entertaining. With good story-telling, good pacing, and engaging characters, Adele to Darius nicely does the task of offering an enjoyable yet simple story in a small amount of time.

[ STORY ] The premise good and simple, making Adele to Darius clean but not necessarily "original" and reminds me of Aladdin in regards to the setting and to an extent the characters. If you think about it hard enough, you might be able to accurately predict some things that will happen. Essentially, the story is
predictable in the sense that it's simple. This story is not, and doesn't aim to be, a fast-paced page turner. That being said, the manga is well executed and ties together nicely, giving us a short but sweet story from beginning to end.

[ ART ] Nothing unpleasant here. The art is pleasing to the eye and the characters are nicely drawn. We don't see much background-wise, but what we do see looks good. The style is also nice and the panels are neat and easy to follow.

[ CHARACTERS ] The two main characters are likable and come across in a pleasant way. They aren't very original, as there isn't enough time for any deep character development. This makes the romance seem one-dimensional to an extent. That aside, Adele and Darius are otherwise enjoyable and interesting to watch. The other characters are mostly only there to usher the plot along, as to be expected. Like in most oneshots, the way that they are introduced is pretty much the way that they're going to be.

[ ENJOYMENT ] Adele to Darius aims to please and did this well enough for me. Though short, this manga is entertaining - but it all really depends on what you like.

[ OVERALL ] I'd recommend Adele to Darius to shoujo-lovers or people who are just plain curious. This just a simple but charming love story to try out in your spare time.

Reading this manga was a pleasant experience. I went into it without high expectations and was surprised by the genuinely sweet aspect of this short story. KiwaGaku (Kiwametsuke Gakuya Ura Ouji) isn't very dramatic, nor is it groundbreaking. You probably won't feel your heart pounding as you read. You'll probably be able to accurately predict what will happen. Although the manga is not extremely original, that isn't necessarily the aim, and there are a few refreshing things nonetheless.

KiwaGaku's story is just another rendition of a typical shoujo manga. Boy and girl meet, girl falls in love with boy, and then, suddenly, there's love. The fairy-tale
feeling of shoujo prevails. Despite how fast the love comes, though, there are a few small, nicely executed twists to the premise that I enjoyed.

The pacing is decent and the story ties together fairly nicely at the end. The plot begins to fall flat during the later chapters, where the cliche factor comes in more and there are a few facepalm worthy moments where you think, "Why didn't they just communicate more?" Something's missing in the twists, making things somewhat predictable and causing KiwaGaku to lack that "special" factor.

Although KiwaGaku is rather decent story-wise, the art is anything but. It's not that special, but at the same time, there are redeeming factors in the art. With handsome boys and gorgeous girls, panels that can just make you feel warm inside, and clean drawings, everything is pleasing to the eye - you won't be disappointed.

The characters, although they come across as cliche shoujo characters at first, actually have some nice, redeeming qualities, though not enough deep development, as to be expected. Our main couple has a sweet and heart-warming (though slightly immature) relationship. As long as you like Akari and Ryusei, you'll just want the best for them.

Akari is a kind girl - imperfect, but not in an overdone way, and easy to admire. Ryusei comes across as rude and stoic, but is misunderstood, and evolves into a sweet character. The side characters are not developed much, but are enjoyable and fun to watch, much like Akari and Ryusei. While the characters are good, there isn't enough development and sometimes I felt like they were doing the same things over and over.

But I have to admit - I liked them all.

In essence, this is a sweet, simple, and cute manga that leaves you with a fuzzy warmth inside. It's short and despite all of its flaws, I found it enjoyable. I hope that, if you decide to read KiwaGaku, you will, too.